I think of my mother on the train. Nichola and I are seated in the last row of the Metro-North on our way home to Larchmont, huddled together as though we’re trying to hide. Nichola rests against my shoulder. Sunlight …
Fiction
When it rains
It was night. And then it was day. And Mama became the sun.
She never looked so happy. Gliding through the house. Gospel music blasting. Spinning into dances I didn’t recognize.
Her voice vibrated with a rhythm of her making.…
The Last Word
A husband dies on a day like any other day. Open Nutella jar on the counter. The frustration of Tupperware lids that don’t match Tupperware bottoms. A smudge of watery sunlight — the kind that comes in after an early-morning …
Whenever You Cross the Michigan Avenue Bridge
You always run. In case it opens up beneath you, splits in two so that each half can hinge up and let boats pass through on the river.
You know, don’t you, that it won’t open without warning? That there …
Choose Your Own Low-Vision Dating Adventure
1
You met the girl online, on one of those dating sites that asks you a long series of questions about how you feel about messy rooms and vegan food and bondage and politics. You are, the website claims, 95% compatible with her.
The Only Pain You Feel
“Stormy night tonight,” my father said.
We were seated at the card table—the one flat surface in his new one-bedroom apartment. He was the one who asked for the divorce, but with good reason: my mom was gay. And though …
Nine Goodbyes
1
My partner is scrambling eggs. He says, “Have you thought about it yet at all?” almost too softly for me to hear, and it becomes one of those times when the gayness of a gay relationship must not be …
Thirsty
This woman that I barely know is asking how I feel about kids. Kids, I say, sure.
We’re in bed, after the fact, her head on my shoulder, eyes burning up at me. Do I tell her now that …
Pinch Hitter
A guy called me up and said he was responding to the ad I put on Craigslist, that I’d do any odd job so long as it was legal. He wanted someone to sit with him while he came out …
Hard Swallow (Winner of the Tennessee Williams Very Short Fiction Contest)
She doesn’t even bother with a tease. Her bra simply falls off to reveal scars jagged like hand-drawn lightning bolts.
“Gentleman, let’s hear it for Cherry.”
I clap politely like a proud parent at a Spelling Bee while the others
